Rain before Dawna poem by F. Scott Fitzgerald

RAIN BEFORE DAWNF. Scott Fitzgerald

The dull, faint patter in the drooping hours Drifts in upon my sleep and fills my hair With damp; the burden of the heavy air Is strewn upon me where my tired soul cowers, Shrinking like some lone queen in empty towers Dying. Blind with unrest I grow aware: The pounding of broad wings drifts down the stair And sates me like the heavy scent of flowers.

I lie upon my heart. My eyes like hands Grip at the soggy pillow. Now the dawn Tears from her wetted breast the splattered blouse Of night; lead-eyed and moist she straggles o'er the lawn, Between the curtains brooding stares and stands Like some drenched swimmer -- Death's within the house!

Rain before Dawna poem by F. Scott Fitzgerald

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